Knowing the Password

Last month I hacked into Alan's Nespresso Club account.  It was easy; I got in on the first try:

Username:  got it

Password:  no caps, name, number - no problem

"Welcome Mr. Alan Strauss."

I knew even before I logged in that Al was a member of the Nespresso Club, because that's how he rolls - simplicity of ordering, premier customer service - the Club is the home of the elite coffee connoisseur.

Earlier this week Al posted a lovely note on Facebook for our anniversary:

To my friend, lover and wife of 24 years - I cannot believe you still put up with me after all these years. In 1988 you married me when I had no money (just debt) fewer prospects and very little hair! I was the long shot. If you were handicapping this pony I was a 100 to 1 to finish let alone win. You bet your life on me and I love you for many things not the least of which are your guts and incredible intuition. Here's to the next 24 years!

I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s the ease with which we can hack into each other’s accounts (sentimental phrasing here:   “hack into each other’s hearts”), that's kept us going for twenty-four years.  After twenty-four years of marriage, we know the password. I guess that's the intuition that Al wrote about - just knowing that the code to the darn house alarm and the garage door and the Travelocity account is always going to be XXXXXXX. It's what makes hanging in there together worth it sometimes -- ease of ordering and a comfort zone that protects the union.

The Oxford Dictionary defines marriage this way:

1the formal union of a man and a woman, typically as recognized by law, by which they become husband and wife;

2a combination or mixture of elements:
  e.g. her music is a marriage of funk, jazz.

When I think about a twenty-four year marriage, it seems that the second definition is actually wrapped up in the first.  The formal union of a man and woman leads to a combination, a mixture of elements that might at first glance not seem to work. But at the end of the day it miraculously does work, and here we are in early May, celebrating another year together.  Maybe it's because the codes are just too hard to break, or because the password, while it can be changed (and let's admit it, probably should be changed after all these years) carries us along and through the rough patches.



So I now have A LOT of Nespresso capsules.  I wasn't quite sure on the ordering, and it seems that one sleeve is actually one box of five sleeves.  Also, come to find out, Al already had a large supply stored in his office - so we are as they say in good shape when it comes to caffeine.  I guess knowing the code isn't exactly everything that you need to keep things running smoothly. Communication, for example, might be another area to examine. But it's a big piece of that entanglement, that  "combination or mixture of elements" that is marriage.

So to Alan, connoisseur of my life, father of my three sons:  Happy 24th Anniversary.  And just a bit of a warning -- I'm pretty sure that Nick knows the password, too. 

 photo by Nancy Lambrides